#417 Born To Run

I have a love/hate relationship with running.  Since I have been a basketball player for 20+ years of my life, running was always a form of painful conditioning or punishment. 

In elementary school my teammates and I vowed to quit the team each practice because Mr. Lakin made us run so many sprints.  We sat in the locker room and talked about it, but we never followed through. 

When I got to junior high I had a little relief from running.  Mr. Washburn didn’t make us run that much and we had Christmas break off.  Yes!  Then I found out the high school coach wanted me and a girl at the other area junior high to attend high school practices over our break.  I was so upset that my parents made me go.  I was shy and afraid of the high school girls whom I didn’t know.  The coach made us run the school hallways (on tile floors!) and also run timed miles around the gym balcony.  It was awful! 

When I eventually got to high school, Ms. Parrish continued her running practices.  One of her infamous quotes was to “run until I get tired.”  At least I didn’t suffer the same fate as my teammate Melissa.  She loves to tell the story about how one day Ms. Parrish forgot about her running upstairs.  Melissa wasn’t about to stop and it was only due to one of the managers that Ms. Parrish finally realized she was still up there and told her she could stop. 

In college the running intensified.  Even though I still didn’t like it, I do admit to being a tiny bit grateful that Ms. Parrish had prepared me so well.  During one of our first preseason conditioning practices, one of my fellow freshmen complained about how hard it was.  I looked at her and said, “We did this in high school.”  Just another day at the office.    

For preseason training, we had to run timed miles.  We met at 6 a.m. on the track.  The rabbits (guards) would have to run a mile in six minutes.  The greyhounds (centers and forwards), in seven minutes.  Luckily we had pacers so if we stayed with them we would make it.  I made it my first three years.  My senior year I stayed with the pacer but somehow didn’t make the mile in time, so I had to do it again the next morning.  I was not happy; my coach wasn’t either. 

That year they also added a five-mile run.  On a hilly golf course.  It wasn’t timed, but it was still awful.  At one point a group of us ran to the top of a hill thinking we were done.  One of the coaches just stood there and pointed to the side for us to keep going.  Agh! 

After college I started running on my own to stay in shape for playing overseas and for USA Basketball teams.  I would run two to three miles a few times a week.  Nothing major.  Slowly I grew to not mind it so much.  When you run at your own pace and don’t have someone yelling at you to fun faster, it’s much more enjoyable. 

Then, the unimaginable happened – I decided to train for the 1999 Indianapolis 500 Mini Marathon.  In my head I thought I would run it just to say I had done it.  It’s in my backyard, so why not?  Everyone in Indy does it!  I got a training chart (for beginners) and was on my way.  I remember my first five-mile run post-college.  I was so nervous that I wouldn’t finish.  I wasn’t fast, but I finished.  (My average was a 10 minute mile over my running “career”). 

Next up was a 10-mile run, and I finished that too.  I did the mini and finished in 2:31:01.  Not too bad!  Of course, I did it again the next year to see if I could improve my time.  Which turned into seven times total.  My best finish was in 2002 at 2:04:48 and a 9:33 pace.  During that race I ran with a friend who was faster than me.  She took off and I spent the first half of the race keeping up with her zig zagging through the course.  She darted to the right, I followed her.  Then she’d dart to the left.  Back and forth.  Finally I decided to stay in one place, figuring she would eventually come back to my side.  Her goal was to break two hours.  I finally told her to save herself, and she took off.  She made her goal, finishing in 1:59:24. 

My times steadily improved from 1999 to 2002.  Then slowly declined.  2003 was 2:07:56 and 2004 was 2:17:32.  My last mini was in 2005 and I walked it with friends.  I think it took us maybe four hours.  (So long that my results didn’t come up in a search.)  Everything was gone when we finished – the food and the people.  I don’t recommend walking.  Even though it doesn’t make sense, it hurts more to walk than to run. 

After seven consecutive minis, I hung up my shoes.  My hips hurt and after upping my training to intermediate in 2004 and finishing slower, I decided I’d had enough. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t include one photo from a mini.  After the race you can look up photos online.  I didn’t buy it but saved a copy.  Every time I see it I laugh out loud.  It is the saddest photo.  During this race I ran with Krista and Julie.  They look fresh as daisies and I look like I am having a seizure. 

Is this not the saddest picture you've ever seen?  

At the beginning of my running “career”, while the running bug bite was still fresh, I took a trip to New York with some friends in 1999.  It happened to be during the time of the New York Marathon.  (New York in November?  Brrrr!  What were we thinking?)  My friend Tammy had run the Chicago Marathon and kept telling me we should run New York together. 

We went to Central Park on marathon day and cheered on the runners.  It was exciting, but I kept telling myself I couldn’t run 13.1 miles and then run 13.1 more miles.  Until I saw a man with one leg “running” on crutches.  He had a person on each side of him and was moving at a good pace.  As I watched him, I realized that I had been saying, “I can’t” and I had two perfectly good legs.  I most certainly could run it, I just didn’t want to. 

I eventually agreed with Tammy to enter the lottery and if we got in I would run it with her.  I still remember the day my confirmation letter came in the mail.  I sat on my front porch bench with my head in my hands wondering what I had gotten myself into. 

That summer and fall of 2000 I trained by myself.  I mapped out a seven-mile loop around the surrounding neighborhood.  I’d do the loop, come back home, eat some goo, and go back out.  I carried a water bottle.  Come November, Tammy and I ran and finished the 2000 New York City Marathon.  I also peed in the street. 

Tammy and me at the finish.  We did it!  

That’s one thing no one mentioned about running a marathon.  I asked several people for marathon tips.  What to eat, how to train, etc.  Not one person mentioned the mass peeing.  While awaiting the marathon start, the lines to the porta-potties were insane.  Of course, men just walked up to a wall and let it go.  I lost count of how many pee-stained walls I saw there and along the route.  I waited patiently to use the porta-potty, while Tammy peed behind a bush.  While we were running I felt the urge but didn’t want to stop for a long time to use another porta-potty.  I scanned the side streets looking for one with no people.  Finally I couldn’t hold it anymore.  I darted down a street and squatted between two cars.  Someone had to have seen my bare behind.  I really don’t care.  Ahhhhh.

I had an illustrious finish.  I told Tammy to save herself (she finished about 15 minutes faster than me) so I ran alone toward the end.  I spotted a good looking guy ahead of me and vowed to keep up with him.  We hit Central Park and I got another boost.  I had taped my name on the front of my shirt, and “War Eagle” on the back.  I saw a group of people cheering and much to my glee they were from Auburn.  As I ran by I turned my back to them and pointed to my sign, and they erupted giving me the extra energy I needed to make it to the finish line.  As I approached the finish line I got a little too close to hot runner guy and gave him a bit of a flat tire.  Whoops! 

I finished in 4:49:22, with Tammy coming in at 4:35:12.  Not too shabby! 

After my multiple minis and one marathon, I resigned myself to running once or twice a week for fun.  I’d run in the heat, the cold, and a couple times in the rain.  I even did one sprint-tri. 

A year or so ago my hip flexor started bothering me after I ran.  And my back didn’t like it either.  I would stop for a few weeks, start up again, stop for a few more months, start up again.  I started swimming regularly last year to get more cardio.  Finally, after a consultation with yet another chiropractor, I determined it wasn’t worth it to keep running.  I’ll keep up the swimming and continue to play tennis and bike.  This past summer I started walking.  Fast.  I am now down to a sub 14-minute mile. 

I’m glad I learned to somewhat enjoy running.  Even though I don’t really categorize myself as a “runner”, I did my share of research and feel that I ran my fair share of races.  And did pretty well for a “big” girl.  A big thank you to JP Dawes and Hal Higdon!  JP created a running program for my first mini, and I used Hal for the rest.  Training for that first mini was daunting, but I learned to take the training day by day, week by week.  Don’t look too far ahead or you will freak out. 

So long running shoes!  Even though I’m a bit sad to see you go, my back and hip flexor are happier. 

#416 Everybody's Working For The Weekend

I have become increasingly annoyed with small talk at the office.  It’s not so much when people talk about the weather (it’s either too hot or too cold – it’s Indiana!  Get used to it!) or last night’s game or television show.  That’s fine with me.  What really annoys me is when people complain about it being Monday, that we’re “almost there” when it’s Wednesday or are super excited that it’s Friday. 

I agree that Monday is probably my least favorite day of the week, just because I have to go back to work.  For the record, I really do like my job.  But it’s not Monday’s fault.  It didn’t choose to be the first workday. 

What can I say about Friday?  People are more relaxed.  Sometimes you get to leave early.  We can wear jeans at work now.  Friday has it easy!  Yesss! It’s Friday! 

What I don’t agree with is wishing your week away.  There are some really good things that happen each week.  I play tennis one day a week and love that day because of it.  I also happen to sometimes look forward to Monday nights because that’s when The Bachelor (or The Bachelorette or even Bachelor In Paradise) airs. 

Time passes fast enough as it is.  I don’t want to wish my Mondays through Thursdays away and just live/work for the weekend.  I want to savor each day for what it is – a gift from God.  This is the day that the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it!  (Psalm 118:24)  No matter what day it is!  

#415 Ask And You Will Receive

Jesus said, “Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete” in John 16:24

Last week I went to lunch with some co-workers at Siam Square.  (Check it out if you like Thai food.)  We sat upstairs and chatted after placing our orders.  Nancy, one of the ladies at our table, said, “I thought I saw our waitress come in with our drinks.”  Seeing as we had no drinks, the waitress had not.  After a minute, the waitress did indeed walk through the door with our drinks.  I told Nancy, “You can see the future!” and we all laughed.  I then told her to imagine a tall and handsome man walking through the door. 

Midway through our meal I looked up to see a tall man walk through the doorway (6’3”), followed by a taller man (6’5”)!  I looked at Nancy and said, “Nancy!  You did it!”  Of course, both men were married.  Even if they weren’t, I don’t know that I would have walked over there and told them my friend had predicted they would walk in the room.  We did get another big laugh out of it though. 

This story reminds me that I need to be more specific when I ask for things.  A tall man did walk through the door, but I didn’t actually say he needed to be single.  It also reminds me of a similar situation that happened to me in 1997.  I was playing in the American Basketball League in Seattle and was going into my second season.  My dad and I drove to Seattle so I would have my car, and he flew back home.  I had a lot of time to think on the three-day drive.  I was 28 and still single.  I thought about how I had usually prayed to meet the right guy.  I would ask that he be at least 6’4” (my minimum) and he didn’t have to be really attractive, just attractive to me, and so on.  It dawned on me that I wasn’t putting my full trust in God.  I wasn’t asking him for His best for me.  I needed to start asking for the best because I deserved His best.  Right then I prayed to meet a guy who was 6’10” and really attractive and nice.  And a Christian of course.  Then I forgot about my prayer. 

Pre-season began and we were working hard at Sound Mind And Body (now closed) in Fremont.  Our trainer, Peter Shmock, told me he wanted me to meet someone.  He was working with a men’s basketball player from the University of Puget Sound who was recovering from planter fasciitis surgery.  Peter wanted me to work on post moves anyway, and thought it would be a good idea to have Bryan Vukelich, who was 6’10”, and me work out together.  I agreed to meet him, but to myself thought, “He’s going to be a big nerd.”  (Which is a terrible thing to think, but that’s what popped into my head.  And these days, I like nerds.) 

I learned Bryan was working out in the gym the day Peter mentioned him and I was upstairs near the window that looked down on the basketball court.  I snuck a peek at him and was pleasantly surprised that he was really cute.  After we were both finished working out Peter introduced us.  Oh.  My.  And not only was he really cute and tall, he was one of the nicest guys I’d ever met.  After our initial meeting it hit me – I had prayed for him!  I asked specifically for 6’10”, really cute, really nice, Christian (Puget Sound was founded as a Methodist University but I didn’t know his religious beliefs).  And there he was! 

Bryan and I met up a few times to work on post moves – for him to help ease him back into playing with his sore foot.  For me, to help me play against someone taller and stronger (he took it easy on me – there is no way I could push a 200 lb + guy around).  He was a redshirt senior and Peter told me he was 22.  Hmmm…still in college and living in Tacoma.  I still had a huge crush on him. 

Peter came up with a contest for Bryan and me to see who could gain the highest percent body weight by November.  We started in late August.  I weighed in at 165 and Bryan at 235 ½.  I started taking creatine and drinking protein shakes twice a day.  I have never felt so bloated in my life.  Creatine is supposed to help you make more muscle and also to recover faster after competition.  I didn’t feel a big difference in my recovery but it did help me gain weight.  I was also lifting heavily during the preseason, so I may have added extra muscle, but I think most of the extra weight was water, as creatine also makes you retain water.  Regardless, I proceeded to top out at 174 lbs and win the contest. 

My college playing weight was 165 lbs and I would always lose 5 lbs in the offseason.  For me to go over 170 lbs was a big deal.  I was used to people telling me how skinny I was and now people were telling me I looked lean and strong. 

The contest terms were that the loser had to treat the winner to drinks and appetizers.  Peter went too and we all had a good time.  There were times when I wondered if Bryan was interested, but nothing ever came of it and that was it. 

When I prayed, I prayed to meet a tall, handsome guy.  I didn’t specify that I wanted to date him.  Picky, picky.  So, the next time you ask for something, be very specific.  I should have learned my lesson the first time! 

#414 Lock And Key

The following is not only a story, but also a public service announcement.  Last Thursday I got home from work, let myself in my house, and proceeded with my evening.  I had plans later that night and locked up before leaving at approximately 7:30 p.m.  I realized I had forgotten something and returned to the house.  My deadbolt opened with the key.  The door knob did not.  It didn’t move a bit in the lock. What is going on?  I tried wiggling it, then hitting the door knob.  Nothing. 

I got in my car and looked up “locksmith Indianapolis” on my phone.  The first entry was for Locksmith Indy.  They boasted an “affordable $19 service fee.” And that “a technician will usually arrive at your location within 15 min. or less.” 

I called and was told they would arrive in 15-10 minutes.  After 30 minutes, I called again and they said they would be there very soon and there was traffic.  (At 8 o’clock on a week night?)  The technician finally arrived an hour after I called. 

As the technician worked, he mentioned the price of unlocking my door - $178.  He also said it would be more if he had to unlock the inside door.  I was stunned.  I should have said something, but I was actually speechless.  And mad at myself for not asking how much the end result would be.  He opened my door, ran my credit card, and left. 

For two days I played the “do not lock the doorknob” game and it worked well until Saturday evening.  I had been out twice in the morning with no problems.  The third time I came home the doorknob was locked.  AGAIN.  I don’t know if I locked it subconsciously or if it turned when I closed the door.  I was so careful!  Regardless, the door was locked.  This time I called Pop-A-Lock.  They had good reviews and when I called they quoted my $74.95.  Yes, that was all.  The only problem I had with them is when I called, my first question was, “How much do you charge?”  The guy told me they had to enter my address because prices are based on location.  He quoted the price and then said they would be there in 50 minutes.  After an hour, I called back.  The woman who answered the phone was very quiet except for the occasional “Hmmmmm”.  This didn’t sound good.  Turns out I was not entered in their system as getting a technician.  What?!  She entered me in the system and then I said, “I assume this will take an additional 50 minutes.  Or more.”  She replied, “Yes ma’am.”  By now it was 8 p.m.  And I had to pee.  I had made plans to watch the IU-Purdue game at my brother’s but by the time they got there the game would be half over.  I continued to sit in my car and read a magazine. 

During situations like this I try to look on the bright side.  I am thankful the temperature was pleasant.  I was warm and comfortable in my car, sitting the garage.  I was just so frustrated. 

After 15 minutes the Pop-A-Lock guy called me and said he would be there in 15 minutes.  He also texted me a link with his location and his photo.  Nice.  He was in Beech Grove and did indeed arrive in 15 minutes.  So half an hour total. 

He tried several ways to unlock the door, saying I had a really good door.  He tried using a tool the previous guy used, just in a different way.  I was not about to admit that this was the second time I had called a locksmith so I made little suggestions to see if they would help.  He did end up opening the door (my suggestions didn’t really help) and it did take a bit longer than the other guy, but he was very pleasant and I was ecstatic the price was so much cheaper than Locksmith Indy. 

After 2 ½ hours, I was in my house.  And have quickly fixed my door knob. 

My advice – no matter who you use, ask questions.  “You say you will be here in 15-20 minutes?  What happens if you’re not?”  “How much is the total price?”  I did ask each technician if they would hurt my door by what they were doing.  Both said no.  It looks fine. 

Another difference between the two companies is that Locksmith Indy did not ask me to verify that was my house.  He showed up, unlocked the door, and that was it.  Pop-A-Lock asked on the phone if I had proof that was my house.  When the technician arrived he also asked for proof (I gave him my driver’s license) and I had to fill out a form with this information also.  I hadn’t thought about it the first time, but it’s something to think about. 

For those with an AAA membership, I did learn that with a premier membership, you will be reimbursed up to $100 for locksmith service for your car or residence.  Unfortunately, I only have the basic service.  

Final advice – use a company that you are comfortable with.  Ask friends.  Find someone before it happens so you have the number programmed in your phone.  I never imagined I would be locked out of my house with a working key.  Do your due diligence!  Stay safe out there!  

#413 Wicked Awesome

This year’s week-long bicycle trip was BikeMaine (ok, so I started writing this in September so "this year" is technically 2015).  My friend Steve emailed me earlier this year and threw it out as an option.  Why not? 

Flying and shipping my bike looked to be really expensive so I drove and picked up Duane in Dayton.  I met him a few years ago on the Bon Ton Roulet.  He and I met Steve and Tracy in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania (the halfway point) where we spent the night.  The next day we drove the rest of the way to the starting point in Kittery, Maine. 

This is BikeMaine’s third year so they do still have some kinks to work out, but I really enjoyed the week.  It’s a smaller ride – capped this year at 350, next year at 400. 

We had a lobster bake the first night.  I learned how to crack a lobster and how to eat a mussel properly.  I pulled my first mussel out of the shell and ate it.  And crunched all the sand with my teeth.  Later I learned to dip it in broth to wash off the sand.  My tutor told me not to eat the foot, but I had already eaten one.  I have no idea why you’re not supposed to eat it, but I didn’t from then on.  I soon became a pro and helped others sitting around me eat their lobster and mussels. 

Day 1 – 60 miles from Kittery to Old Orchard Beach.  It started out as an overcast day and quickly turned into a rainy one.  My preferred mindset is, “It could always be worse.”  It didn’t rain hard and there was no lightning, and it was fairly temperate.  My bike was a mess though.  I hate for it to get so gritty!  We stopped at Kennebunk for lunch at the local firehouse and I spotted a tall, handsome biker.  This goes into my “Feeling Normal” album.  Steve hopped in front of us to be funny. 

There is an 80s amusement park at Old Orchard Beach, which was closed for the season.  We walked past it after our dinner on the pier.  The tide was out so the beach looked enormous!  Can you tell we’re happy to be here? 

L-R: Steve, me, Duane, Tracy, Boris

It rained most of the night, but that didn’t deter BikeMaine from setting off fireworks on the beach just for us.  Even though I was not directly underneath the fireworks, I was dry and cozy in my tent at 8:30 p.m. 

Ooooooh.  Ahhhhhhhh.  Zzzzzzzzzzz.

Day 2 – 55 miles from Old Orchard Beach to Bridgton.  After the rain, we had a beautiful, sunny day.  This day’s route was pretty hilly, rivaling southern Indiana.  We had lunch in Sebago (not the shoes – that is in Michigan) and a nice rest stop by the Saco River.  Duane and I also stopped by a lake to take some photos, and Andrew, one of the riders and also a photographer from Down East, took some pictures of us on the pier, similar to this one.  

This might be my favorite picture from the trip.

Day 3 – 46 miles from Bridgton to Bethel.  Another sunny, beautiful day!  It’s warming up too.  This day it hit around 80 degrees but was still very pleasant.  It was another hilly day too.  There was a chance of rain so Tracy and Steve (who ride faster than I do) had set my tent up for me.  So nice!

Bethel was our layover town so dinner tonight was on our own.  We walked around town and ate pizza at Suds Pub.  Duane’s new buddy, Woody, sat down next to us at the pub and said, “I’m wicked parched.”  Which sounded like, “I’m wicked paaached.” in his brilliant Maine accent.  Love it! 

After dinner, Steve and I stopped at an auditorium in the Gould Academy campus (that was our base camp) and watched a movie, “Damnation” about the removal of dams in the United States.  Very interesting. 

Day 4 – rest day in Bethel.  We had several options for this day – rest, hike, kayak, paddleboard or tool around town.  After breakfast at Café diCocoa we walked to Paradise Hill.  Duane wanted to pan for gold (gems really) so after he and Boris burned through a $50 bucket of rocks, we three went kayaking on the Androscoggin River.  Karen, another BikeMaine rider, joined us.  I am thankful she did!  At the counter we had to choose between the five-mile, one-and-a-half hour trip, or the 10-mile, three-hour trip.  My mind said one and a half hours was plenty.  Duane and Karen, who had kayaked before, wanted to get their money’s worth and go for the longer route.  I reluctantly agreed. 

Before our kayaking adventure.

Boris tipped over while getting into his kayak.  (Premonition of things to come.)  I followed Karen since she knew what she was doing and got off to a faster start.  We slowly pulled away from the boys.  I looked back every now and then, and they got smaller and smaller.  Eventually, I couldn’t see them at all.  Karen and I had a nice paddle (is that what you call it?).  Although, after 30 minutes I started thinking, “I have two and-a-half more hours of this!  My arms are going to fall off!”  I calmed my mind and focused on enjoying the river and being in the moment.  My right elbow started to hurt a tiny bit but I just kept paddling.  We saw some Merganser ducks (per Karen).  It was a beautiful day and I loved being out on the water.  It was so peaceful!  Karen and I chatted now and then, but then one would pull ahead of the other and we’d paddle on in silence. 

We rounded a corner and Karen called out that we were done – we had reached the bridge where we were to pull off.  Two hours!  And right when we were done I realized that there were foot rests in the kayak.  I had paddled for two hours and not noticed them at all.  My feet were right between them!  That would have been helpful!  I felt pretty good about my kayaking skills, and that I had kept up with her not using foot rests. 

We walked back to camp (15-20 minutes) and eventually the boys made it back as well.  It took them the full three hours.  Boris had trouble the entire way.  I felt bad for leaving them, but not too bad.  J 

Ate dinner with the BikeMaine group at the Bethel Inn.  Very pretty! 

Day 5 – 61 miles from Bethel to Camp Tapawingo (near Sweden).  The days were getting warmer, but the nights were getting colder.  I was starting to sleep with my hoodie on.  The first 20 miles of this day’s ride was the best so far of the ride.  I rode with a few different people today – one couple from Kansas City and another man from Annapolis, Maryland.  Our lunch stop was at Weston’s Farm with some wicked awesome corn chowdah. 

When we arrived at Camp Tapawingo it was a schorcher – in the high 80s.  After putting up our tents we hit the Keyes Pond (which looked like a lake to me).  It felt soooo good!  I jumped in with my bike shorts and sports bra. 

Cooling off in Keyes Pond

Camp Tapawingo cabins

Camp Tapawingo is a summer camp for girls age 8-14 and been around for almost 100 years.  It looks straight out of Parent Trap.  Girls can go there for four or seven weeks at-a-time.  Cost?  $11,000.  Yes, you read that right.  And this is no fancy camp.  The cabins are very sparse with eight beds per cabin, two sinks and two toilets. 

Of course, Steve made fun of the name and kept saying it in an Italian accent, “You eat-a some pasta, you drink-a some wine, you tap-a your wingo.”  We laughed so hard.  He said that Tapawingo is native American for “pleasure yourself.”  I later learned that it really means, “place of joy” so he wasn’t far off.  Tracy sat on the deck reading a book ignoring us, possibly pretending she didn’t know us. 

We had a nice dinner in the main camp building and even played ping pong.  A band called The Lonely Heartstrings played after dinner – an interesting group.  They formed to play one wedding reception.  The bride wanted them to play Beatles songs on traditional bluegrass instruments and they had so much fun they stayed together as a band. 

My arms didn’t feel sore today – I was surprised.  I rode by a river and wanted to kayak again! 

Day 6 – 76 miles from Camp Tapawingo to Kennebunk.  Was a long day on the road.  I left early this morning because I’m the slowest rider.  They all caught me at mile eight.  Arrived at Kennebunk at 3:30 p.m.  The showers were packed so after setting up the tent we sat around chatting for a while.  We ate in town at the Waterhouse Center, which is a covered area that serves as an ice rink in the winter.  Since it was our last dinner, I was brave and went through the dinner line twice (during the week they had frowned upon getting seconds.  And extra rolls).  Dessert was strawberry rhubarb pie with ice cream.  Unfortunately most of the shops closed at 6 so we didn’t get to do much after dinner.  Kennebunk is a lovely little town and would have liked to have more time to look around.  Too bad it was such a long day on the bike. 

Pretty flower boats!

 

Kennebunk at night.  

Day 7 – 52 miles from Kennebunk to Kittery.  What a beautiful day!  The morning was cool but comfortable.  We rode through Kennebunkport, which was spectacular and the best part of the ride by far!  After riding past the Bush compound, Duane and I stopped along the shore.  The tide was out and the beach was massive!  We talked to a local couple while putting our shoes back on and the woman mentioned Barbara Bush was on the beach.  She walks it most mornings.  As we arrived at the beach I did notice an older woman with a walker and some people walking with her.  As I watched her I thought, “I want to be like that when I’m older.  Even if I need a walker, I want to be outside enjoying the beach (if I’m around one).  And THAT was Barbara Bush!  Wow!  By the time we realized who it was, they were a spec. 

Linda at Kennebunkport

 As we rode through Wells and York, the traffic was nuts.  Glad to be on a bike and whiz by all of them!  

Duane took a picture of me while riding through York.  Watch out!  

Our rest stop was at Nubble Light House.  Very nice!  As I walked around with my snacks, I saw four older women sitting on a rock.  They were taking pictures and I asked if they wanted me to take one of them.  After I did, I walked behind them and took one for myself.  Makes me think of my girlfriends back home, especially three of them from high school.  The four of us have had some fun times together! 

Nubble Light House.  I could have sat here for hours!

Four friends.  

Arrived in Kittery around 1 p.m.  Quickly ate lunch and showered.  Then it was au reviour Maine as Duane and I headed to Harrisburg.  Made it there by 11 p.m., but no one was at the front desk to check us in.  After patiently waiting (and Duane impersonating a hotel employee) we finally got some sleep.  The next day I took a wrong turn on I-70 and ended up in Maryland.  What?  We were on 76 heading west and I knew we eventually wanted 70, so when I saw a sign for 70 I took it.  Never mind my Garmin kept telling me to make a U-turn.  I disregarded it since it had also told me to take an exit in New Jersey on the way to Maine and that was wrong.  So I took 70 South instead of waiting MANY more miles for 70 West.  I only noticed when I saw the sign, “Welcome to Maryland.”  Oops!  It could have been worse.  We only lost an hour. 

Despite that one error, we had a great week, and I traveled through 10 states!  Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine and then Maryland.  Wow!  What wicked awesome trip!  

#412 I Am The Warrior

I loved high school.  I wasn’t particularly popular.  However, at 6’6”, everyone knew who I was.  Playing on the volleyball and basketball teams helped too.  I never went to parties, instead heading to someone’s house to watch movies or to Noble Roman’s for pizza and breadsticks on the weekends (they have the BEST breadsticks). 

Despite my affinity for high school, I have moved on and don’t live there.  We all know people who are like that.  They have the same hair, dress the same way, or all they talk about is their high school days.  It’s fun to visit now and then, and I do still hang out with high school friends.  Ultimately, we all have moved on. 

I go to the occasional football game each fall.  (Ok, this year I went to four.  A high school friend’s son was a senior on the team so I went to more games than usual).  I also go to maybe one girls basketball game (I have not been to one in a couple years).  I got wind of a 6’5” freshman on the girls team so Melissa (said high school friend) and I went to a game a few weeks ago.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a girls team at Warren play that well.  They have a new coach and he’s doing a great job.  Their freshman “big girl” (as I like to call tall basketball players) did well also. She's 6'5".  

Last weekend Melissa and I were at Warren again, and to recognize another former Lady Warrior who is on the 2016 Indiana High School Basketball Silver Anniversary Team.  Shannon played at Warren after I left (1988-1991) and then went on to Purdue.  They introduced her before the varsity girls’ game.  Several of her teammates and friends were there to support her, along with her family. What a fun night!  As is always the case at a reunion game like that, we were too busy catching up with each other to pay a lot of attention to the game (they won by about 30 points). 

After the game we all met at a local pizza place to continue the fun.  We had to get our breadsticks!  (Alas, there is no longer a Noble Romans on our side of town.)  Shannon is a fellow “big girl” at 6’4” so we chatted a bit about clothes and men.  Two hot topics!  Even though the graduation years spanned a few years within our group (‘85 through ‘91) we all had a blast.  Why wouldn’t we?  We are the Warriors!